


Here, Kitty

by orphan_account



Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Washington gets a cat. York is not too excited about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here, Kitty

**Author's Note:**

> I originally published this on fanfiction.net, but this site has a RvB category so I'm putting it here instead

At first York thought there was a woman in the room.

Which was perfectly normal for most agents. Carolina came over all the time. But for Wash… that was just weird.

“Stop, that tickles,” he heard him say from behind the door. “Mmmm, you like that? Yes you do.”

_Now this is really… sketchy._ York had only gone back to their room just to grab a buck for the vending machines. He was really hungry, but scared to knock to see what he would find… in their room… on their bunk... He shuddered. But he had to get in.

Pulling himself together, he knocked quietly on the door. “Um… Wash, buddy? I kind of need to get in. Not trying to disturb anything, but…” He trailed off, hoping this didn’t get any more awkward.

He heard sheets rustling- “Hurry, get under the bed”- and then, “Alright, you can come in.”

York pushed the door open hesitantly to see Wash still in his gray-yellow armor from training. He was reclined on his bunk, wearing his I’m-just-being-casual face. It was a miracle he wasn’t whistling. York crossed his arms and asked, “Who is it?”

Wash looked at him, startled. “What?”

He leaned against the doorframe. “Who’s under the bed?”

His face turned stony, impassive. “No one.”

“Come on, Wash,” York groaned. “I can tell when you’re lying because you do that twitchy eyebrow thing.” Wash tried to look up at his own eyebrows, failed, and scowled. York tried not to snigger.  “Is it CT? I thought she was getting pissy at you again.”

“Why would I have another agent under my bed?” Wash asked, irritated. “That’s against protocol. And CT is always pissy, so there really would be no change at all.”

_Well, that’s true about CT_ , York decided, but remembered to get back on the point. “You know what else is against protocol? Hiding things under your bed!”

Wash pondered that. “I highly doubt it. But I could check my manual if you’d like.”

“Screw the manual!” York said, frustrated. “You know what? Move it. I am checking under your bed.”

Wash’s face flushed. “No-“ But in two short strides, York had crossed the room and was kneeling down by the legs of Wash’s bunk. He lifted up a dangling bed sheet, and found himself looking straight in the shining dark eyes of…

… A cat.

York stared at it.

It stared back and yawned, showing pointy little teeth.

It was unbearably cute. It even had little white ‘socks’ on its feet.

“What. The. Hell.” York said. “You have a cat.”

He sighed and flopped down on his bunk. “Technically it’s a kitten.”

“And it’s in our room.”

“Technically its name is Sir Whiskers.”

“Where did you even _get_ a cat?! We’re in freaking _space!_ ” He tore his eyes away from the fluffy feline and stared at Wash. _There is no way that I am living with a freaking cat. If any hair at all gets in my armor, I will be royally pissed._ After all, York had always considered himself a dog person. Maybe he could pull the protocol card that Wash loved so dearly. “If anything is against protocol, it’s this.”

“I checked. The manual says nothing about cats.” York shook his head at the thought of Wash actually checking to see if kittens were against the rules. Typical. He tried to think of something else that could get rid of the feral thing.

“I’m allergic to cats.”

Wash grinned a tiny little bit. “You are not. I checked your medical records.”

_Dammit._ “I could throw it out the air lock. No one would have to know.”

“I asked Michael from security to make sure no one suspicious gets out of this room holding a kitten.”

“I could drown it in the toilet.”

Wash laughed. “Do you really think Sir Whiskers can’t take you?” York looked at the cat’s- Sir Whisker’s- claws. They were tiny, but he was betting Wash probably sharpened them for defense or something. He looked back up to see Wash smiling at him. “I did. Sharpen them.”

_Effing freak. How could he be this dedicated for a cat?_ Sensing defeat, York stood up to leave. “There is no way you’re getting rid of this cat, is there?”

“Nope.”

“Dammit.” He started walking down the hall. Suddenly an idea occurred to him… Maybe he could get Tex or Carolina to go kill it-

“Don’t even try York!” Wash called down the hall. “Even they would surrender to its cuteness!”

                York swore silently under his breath. Then he remembered he never got his dollar. 


End file.
